Retribution

Chapter 1: The Return

You step off the plane, the chill of New York winter biting at your skin like a thousand angry needles. The familiar skyline looms ahead, a jagged silhouette against the slate gray sky. You take a deep breath, the air heavy with the scent of diesel and desperation. The city has changed, but the shadows still whisper your name—Mike Samuel, the mob boss who vanished.

As you stride through the terminal, your heart pounds in your chest. You left this life behind three years ago, but with the death of your daughter, Mia, the pull of vengeance is irresistible. You can still hear her laughter, a soft melody that now feels like a ghost haunting your every step.

"Hey, Mike!" a voice calls out, breaking through your reverie. It's Jason, your old associate. He's leaning against a black SUV, arms crossed, a grin splitting his weathered face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Maybe I have," you reply, your voice low and gravelly. You step toward him, the weight of your purpose heavy on your shoulders. "Let's go."

The ride through the bustling streets is a blur of color and noise, but you barely register it. Your mind is consumed with thoughts of Mia and the twisted path that led to her death. You glance out the window, watching the people move about their lives, oblivious to the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

"Have you heard anything?" you finally ask, breaking the silence.

Jason's expression turns serious. "Yeah, but it's all whispers. You know how it is. Daniel's been keeping a low profile since—well, since everything went down."

Daniel. Your mind flashes to the man who once called you friend. The betrayal stings like acid; his hand in your daughter's death clings to your thoughts like an unwanted shadow.

"He thinks he can hide," you say, your jaw tightening. "He's going to regret it."

As the SUV pulls into a dimly lit alley behind an old bar, you step out into the cold night air. The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses spill out from the entrance. You can hear the low hum of a jukebox inside, but it's the quiet that surrounds you now that feels most oppressive.

You turn to Jason. "Get the others. We need to talk."

"Right away, boss." He's quick to obey, darting off into the shadows, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The bar door swings open, and a few faces turn to you, surprised. You scan the room, taking in the familiar faces of old associates and new players, remnants of your former empire. They look at you with a mix of respect and fear—your reputation still precedes you.

"Mike!" a boisterous man named Tony shouts from across the room, waving you over. "Is it really you?"

You force a smile, the warmth in his voice a brief respite from the chill inside you. "Yeah, it's me. Just like old times, huh?"

He gestures for you to join him at the bar. Behind him, bottles of whiskey glimmer under the low light, and the bartender nods, pouring you a drink without asking. You raise the glass, taking a long sip. The burn steadies your resolve.

"Been a while since you graced us with your presence," Tony continues, leaning in. "What brings you back? You still have enemies lurking around."

"Let's just say I have some unfinished business." Your tone is curt, but the truth hangs heavy in the air.

Tony's grin falters for a moment. "You're talking about Daniel, aren't you?"

You lock eyes with him, and the room falls silent, all ears now on your conversation. "He put a target on my daughter's back. I'm here to collect."

A murmur ripples through the crowd. You can feel the tension, the fear of what your return could mean for their world.

"Mike, you can't just—"

You cut him off. "I can and I will. I won't let him get away with this."

The bar falls quiet again, the laughter and music fading into the background as your words hang in the air. You're met with a mix of support and apprehension. Those who know you understand the depth of your anger, while others see the danger that could spiral from your quest for revenge.

"Alright, then," Tony finally says, raising his glass. "To family."

"To family." You echo, the toast feeling hollow in your throat.

You finish your drink and motion for another, your heart racing with the thrill of the hunt. You're not just back in New York; you're back in the game. And this time, the stakes are personal.

As you down the second drink, the door swings open again, a gust of icy wind following a figure inside. It's Jason, flanked by a couple of toughs from your old crew. They look eager, ready for action, but you can see the worry etched on their faces.

"What's the plan, boss?" Jason asks, scanning the room.

You set your glass down, the clink of glass signaling the shift in the atmosphere. "We find Daniel before he knows I'm back. We make sure he understands what he's done."

The room buzzes with energy, people exchanging glances, a palpable anticipation building. You can feel it in your bones; the thrill of the chase, the promise of blood.

"Let's move," you say, your voice steady. "Time to remind the city who I am."

And as you step out into the night, a sense of purpose surges through you. The city is still alive with its hum of chaos and crime, but now, it's your turn to carve a path through it. The hunt has begun, and nothing will stop you until you have your revenge.